Salute the Toff by John Creasey Page A

watching Phyllis Harvey. When they returned to Bayswater Road he told her that he had sent Jolly to investigate the possibility that Draycott was in hiding in Hampshire.
    â€œI have a feeling that he is hiding from something that scares him, not the police. I think there’s danger, and that he knows it, and is handling it the only way he thinks he can. Need I say more?”
    â€œNo,” said Fay.
    â€œDid you ever get any impression that he was scared or worried? At the office, or out of it?”
    â€œNo, none at all.”
    The Toff recalled Phyllis Harvey’s assurance that Draycott had received a letter, and had threatened to ‘kill the swine’.
    â€œHas he been bested in any kind of deal lately?”
    Fay looked startled.
    â€œHow did you know that?”
    The Toff stood back from her, and sat on the edge of a chair, took out his cigarette-case and eyed her thoughtfully as he flicked flame to his lighter.
    â€œI saw it as a possibility. You should have told me before if there was anything out of the ordinary happening in the past month. Don’t you hold out on me.”
    â€œOh, Rolly, please don’t say that!” She was surprisingly young and naïve. “I didn’t think there could be any connection. He had the agency for the Mid-Provincial Building Society, and he lost it. I think it was because he lost Mr. Harvey’s support when Harvey resigned. It made a difference of a thousand a year to him, and I know he was worried by that. But when you said ‘worried’ I didn’t think you meant in the way of business.”
    â€œI meant in any way. Who took the agency from him?”
    â€œA firm in the West End—Murray and Firth. But that could not have any bearing, could it?”
    â€œI don’t know,” said the Toff, “but I might find out. Well, it’s time for bed.” He had refused an invitation to stay at Bayswater Road, for he preferred to be at his flat during the night, and to commence operations from there the next morning. Jamie insisted on a nightcap, and the women left them together. Jamie measured the whisky, and said: “What do you think of this fellow Harrison?”
    â€œProbably quite harmless.”
    â€œOh yes. But hardly Fay’s kind, d’you think?”
    â€œFay seems to agree,” said the Toff dryly. “He came round earlier in the evening, didn’t he?”
    â€œYes. He rather annoyed me,” said the worthy Jamie. “He seemed to think that he was the only man for women—you know what I mean—who had any right to look after Fay. He rather got under my skin. However, it’s of no account,” added Jamie. “Here’s to a quick solution, Rolly.”
    The Toff duly drank to the toast.
    At home, he locked the door, put an automatic by his bed for the sake of security, and prepared for bed. It was nearly half past eight when he woke, and the night had been a quiet one. He lazed between the sheets for some minutes, yawned, went into the kitchen and put on a kettle, bathed and then made tea. He did not feel like cooking a breakfast, but made some toast.
    At nine-fifteen the telephone rang, and he heard McNab say: “Rolleeson, why did Miss Harvey call to see ye?”
    â€œI’m still trying to find out,” said the Toff. “I think she was scared that you were taking things for granted against Draycott, and she came to make sure that I would stop it. Odd ideas some people have about me.”
    â€œIs that all the truth?” demanded McNab.
    â€œI don’t mind dealing with your scepticism in the evening, but first thing in the morning it’s beyond me. She told me nothing I didn’t know, and that you don’t know. Next, please.”
    He heard a sound from the other end of the wire which might have been a laugh or a grunt. But there was nothing else McNab wanted to know, and he rang off. The Toff replaced the receiver thoughtfully,